Kiss Me Better (With Tongue Please)
by TheOneWithTheShortHair
Summary: The last thing Finn ever expected to walk in on was his boyfriend with his finger down his throat. T for eating disorder and swearing.


**AN: For a prompt on the glee angst meme.**

Kiss It Better (With Tongue, That's The Only French Thing You're Good At)

Finn had an awesome night planned, he bought roses, video games, drumsticks (in case they needed something to do) and he knew him and Puck had the house to themselves.

He parked the car, and oddly enough the front door was open.

In the back of his mind, there was a little voice in his head saying _turn back now! This is EXACTLY like the start of EVERY horror movie IN THE WORLD!_

But he walked in, drumsticks in hand, possibly ready for defense and-

The last thing Finn ever expected to walk in on was his boyfriend with his finger down his throat.

In hindsight, it wasn't his greatest moment.

"What are you doing?"

"Finn? What are you doing here?" his voice was rough, sounded like he'd eating sand. But sad too, and Finn could see the tears in his shiny eyes.

"It's seven," he held up the basket of stuff he'd brought like some excuse.

"Oh," was all Puck could say," I guess I lost track of time." The way he said it made it sound perfectly normal. Like he threw up everyday when Finn wasn't there. Which he probably was.

That's when Finn's brain connected to his mouth, "So why exactly are you throwing up?"

"I'm not sure," Puck said. "If you get out I might be able to think about it."

Finn nodded, back out of the bathroom. Puck closed the door and it locked.

He could barely hear the sound of Puck's retching over the sound of running water.

But he did, and the sound haunted him for the next few weeks.

*0*

Puck got out of the bathroom, to see the unimpressed face of his boyfriend standing there.

"You know Bulimia kills, right?" Finn said, in the same monotone voice he'd talked with earlier, he obviously was still processing it.

Not like there was anything to process, Puck just was better when he was hungry, when he threw up he was finally doing something to make himself better.

Better person, better football player, better singer, brother, and especially better boyfriend.

He could stop being such a whore if he re-did himself.

And he knew he was fat.

"Its not like I care if I die right now."

"You don't mean that do you?"

Silence. Plain numb silence biting through both boys, in the staring contest that could turn into a full fight if not ended.

Finn decided he'd fight _that _battle later.

"So why are you throwing up?"

"I don't do it a lot…" He trailed off, making Finn wonder what was going on in his head.

"When do you do it?" he asked, carefully, like he was talking to a kid.

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Puck yelled, throwing the taller boy of balance.

"I never said there was!" Finn yelled back.

"You want to! You think there is! But I'm fine!"

"No you aren't Noah! You aren't fine or you'd tell me why I walked in on you throwing up!"

"Get out," it was a command, the same tone, one Finn hadn't heard since he stopped throwing people in the dumpster.

And since Finn is so lost, he does what Finn does best, he kisses Puck, "I love you," gets in his car and drives away.

Fuck, because Puck's screwed up _again _(Twice in one night is pretty impressive), and there isn't enough junk food in the world to make this ok again.

So he throws up until he passes out in a puddle of his puke,

It basically sums up his entire existence of suckiness.

***0***

"Alright, Puck, we're talking about this."

"There's nothing to talk about." Nothing. Not talking about how he hadn't eating since Friday night, and it's Monday now. Not talking about how the world sucks. Not about how Puck's a failure and Finn should see that, because everyone else can, because his badass mask is a load of bullshit and he knows it.

"Well then why where you making yourself puke?"

"My stomach didn't agree with something I ate, so I sped the process up".

"So you aren't bulimic?"

"Of course I'm not, dudes don't do that shit."

And Finn kisses it better, tongue and all, because he tastes like root beer and delicious things that Puck wants _right now._

*0*

The thing is, it takes another four months for anyone to notice.

Finn is a wonderful boyfriend, doesn't pressure Puck to eat. He doesn't seem to be suspicious, Puck is after all, the smart one in the relationship. And in life. Plus he's an excellent liar.

Or maybe Finn's a to trusting person.

Its not like Puck has a problem or anything. He just doesn't eat until he can't stand it and eats everything in the house that tastes remotely good and will throw it all up. But that's not a problem, it's a solution.

He looks better. Skinnier, prettier, like a girl. Maybe if he gets small enough he'll be small enough for people to stop giving them crap when they go out together.

Maybe.

Maybe he'll be good enough.

But it all comes crashing down.

Its glee practice. He can't remember the choreography or the words (thank god he doesn't have a solo, only he has to watch Finn and Rachel belt their hearts out to each other. One day he'll deserve that) and the lights are to bright, the music to loud and suddenly his vision goes too bright, then dark, too dark, he thinks he can hear someone that sounds like Quinn scream, and that doesn't make sense because Quinn doesn't love him anymore and nothing works, not his voice, and he'll have to eat something tomorrow.

He opens his eyes.

And see's Finn's, a bit too close for him, and he's cold.

He fainted, didn't he?

Well now he's as pathetic and the girls on those stupid-ass pro-ana sites he hasn't been on.

"Are you ok?" Finn's voice cuts through his line of thoughts.

"Yeah, guess I'm just a bit dehydrated."

Someone hands him a water bottle, but his hands are shaking too much to open it, so Finn does.

He drinks all the water, ignoring the worried looks from the other glee clubbers.

If he looked, he'd notice the plotting looks on their faces.

No one says anything when Finn takes him to the audience seats, even though Puck protests, he sits and kisses Puck, like kisses could fix everything.

And as talented Finn is a kisser, they can't.

*0*

The worst thing Finn could see when he walked into his house, would be Puck with his fingers down his throat.

So that's exactly what he sees.

"We're going to try this again, why are you doing this Noah?"

"Because it's easier to not be such a fuck up with it." He won't cry, crying means he's weak. He isn't weak, he's Fucking Bad Ass Puck, sex shark and boyfriend.

No way he can believe that, he's amazing other people do.

"You can't do this." Finn looks like he's going to cry. Finn can't cry over Puck, he isn't worth it.

"I have too." His eyes plead with Finn, just let me be.

Finn's refuse, "Why?"

"Because if I don't, I lose everything. I can't be perfect, can't be the one people want, need, me to be. If I get small enough, maybe people will think I'm a girl and not give of crap when we go out. Maybe people will be able to forgive me if I'm not a monster." Fuck, he's crying now. Get with the program Puckerman, this isn't an option right now.

"I love you, and this is killing me." Finn's crying now. Maybe they are gay, that's why they're crying like little girls.

"It's killing me too." He admits, and he can't look at Finn, so his shoes become the most interesting thing in the world.

"Will you stop then?" He looks up, regrets it instantly seeing Finn's tears. But its time he realizes what he's doing.

The tear tracks are making they're way down both of their faces, drying like a salty second skin, and Puck realizes he can't, not anymore, not again.

"I'll try." That's all Finn can ask, all he can say, and this time Puck leans in for the kiss.

*0*

There's good days and bad days.

Good days are when Puck doesn't care, he kisses freely, he doesn't care that people stare, catches passes in football, makes Beist proud, makes Finn prouder. Days he puts little gold stars on a calendar (turns out Rachel's obsession with both are proven useful) for everyday he's clean. He feels like some ex-drug addict, living for the first time.

And there's bad days.

Days he can't stand the way people look at him, the way he holds hands with Finn and looks so fucking happy and apparently people can't deal with that. Days when he steps on the scale and can't believe he's that big, looks in the mirror and spots his imperfections, like someone colored them bright neon orange and he can't understand why people deal with him. Days Jewfro asks him why he's a fag, when he could be amazing and he can't stand this anymore, and Finn will find him smelling like his puke, crying his eyes out, asking, begging _please don't hate me,_ and Finn's there every step of the way.

He has his magic kisses and will kiss Puck better every time he falls, because he's _trying _and that's really all Finn can ask.


End file.
